Jay Kelly: Portrait of an empty man
Jay Kelly is very good at being Jay Kelly, that is Jay Kelly the international film star who’s been gracing audiences with his presence on the world’s movie screens for 35 years. It’s a role he can play in his sleep. But the other Jay Kelly, the eager, insecure kid who left home and came to Hollywood to prove to his father he was something, that Jay Kelly is long gone, willingly wiped out through the assumption of many cinematic identities. He’s not missed. He’s too problematic and has too much baggage. Why bother being him when being the other Jay Kelly means constant adoration and having your every need and wish fulfilled. After all, that’s the meaning of success, isn’t it?
The titular character, that would be Jay Kelly, gets a disturbing answer to that question in Noah Baumbach’s brilliant, you guessed it, Jay Kelly, an examination of identity as filtered through our work, as well as our friends and family. At least, that’s how we peons perceive who we are. Kelly though, poignantly portrayed by George Clooney, has another filter that distorts his perception of himself and that would be his legions of fans. Their idolization of him has created an illusion regarding who he is that Kelly, to his ultimate detriment, gave up fighting long ago.
Baumbach opens the film with a stunning tracking shot inside a massive studio set, his camera following Kelly and his entourage as he makes it to the spot where they’ll be shooting the last scene of his latest film. Every isolated piece of set dressing, each random prop, the elaborate weather effects, when seen separately, mean nothing. But once the camera turns a corner, we see that when each of these things are combined, they create the sort of seductive illusion only the movies can offer us. Yet, the picture isn’t complete until Kelly takes his place within this massive artifice. He too has become a prop, but without his presence, this construct means nothing.
This is an important starting point as we come to notice that even when Kelly is away from the studio, the scenario is much the same. Though walking around in the real world, he’s sheltered by his managers, Ron and Liz (Adam Sandler and Laura Dern), primped and pampered by his stylist, Candy (Emily Mortimer), and adored by the fans he encounters. There are no everyday worries for Kelly; no matter where he is, his cocoon of celebrity protects him.
However, two events cause him to step outside this comfortable prison. His youngest daughter, Daisy (Grace Edwards), informs him she is going on a trip with her friends across Europe. This stops Kelly short, as he thought they’d spend the summer together. Then, he meets a ghost, his former roommate, Timothy (a great Billy Crudup), who studied acting with him during their salad days. Seems Kelly accompanied his pal to an audition, just to observe, but ended up getting the part instead, a role that proved to be his launching pad to stardom. That Timothy is resentful is an understatement.
These incidents trigger long-suppressed memories in Kelly and prompt him to action. He impulsively decides to follow Grace to Paris and accompany her on the rest of her trip. Coincidentally, he’s to be given a lifetime achievement award in Italy in a week’s time, so his entourage accompanies him, none of them happy having to tend to this overgrown child.
The flashbacks, recreations of key scenes in Kelly’s life in which he stands as a silent observer, are the beating heart of the film. Among other things, we see his innocent betrayal at Timothy’s audition, witness him squander a chance at true love and, most importantly, neglect his eldest daughter, Jessica (Riley Keough), as she desperately tries to connect with him. Each moment is delicately handled, Clooney supplementing each with deft expressions of anger, melancholy and regret.
Yet, Kelly isn’t the only one suffering an identity crisis. Ron has devoted his life to him, much to his detriment. Constantly pulled away from his family at the slightest whim of his biggest client, he’s become consumed by his role as Kelly’s handler, a decision that ultimately has massive consequences for him both personally and professionally. Sandler has never been better than he has here, his lively eyes deadening as the film goes on, the actor subtly realizing the death of this man’s sense of happiness and self.
The rest of the cast is great as well, including Patrick Wilson as Ben Alcock, Kelly’s rival and Ron’s other client, Stacy Keach as his resentful father, and Jim Broadbent as his first director and mentor. The entire ensemble is something directors dream of having at their disposal and Baumbach provides a vehicle for each of them to shine and the film is all the better for it.
Of course, none of this would work without Clooney, who gives a surprisingly restrained, reflective and moving performance. He’s never been as vulnerable or wounded as he is here, the actor allowing the artifice of his own image slip away to reveal a man who barely exists. Clooney conveys that sense of emptiness with his ever-emotive eyes, their usual sparkle replaced by a waning light. This isn’t a movie star turn but a complex, subtle performance from a genuine actor.
On the surface, Kelly seems like a film that would speak to very small, exclusive audiences. Yet, we are all guilty of wearing selective masks from time to time, depending on the company or situation. The temptation to assume a guise that’s more pleasing to others or gratifying to ourselves is always there. Baumbach and his cast powerfully remind us that, despite appearances, being yourself is always the best option, despite the complications that might result. Streaming on Netflix.
Hall effectively skewers British mores
You have to be in a properly silly state of mind to enjoy Jim O’Hanlon’s Fackham Hall, a ribald comedy that casts a wide net in its efforts to generate laughs. To say its five writers take a scattershot approach to this parody is an understatement akin to saying the Titanic had a slight mishap. Every tool in the Comedy Handbook is employed in this parody of Downton Abbey and the drawing room murder genre, more of the jokes landing than not. Then again, as with every comedy, your mileage will vary. If seeing a young heiress run off with a manure salesman who advertises he makes deliveries by hand tickles your funny bone, then Hall is your cup of tea.
The titular estate has been owned by the Davenports for centuries. The current Lord Davenport (Damian Lewis) and his wife Lady Davenport (Katherine Waterston) are intent on marrying their youngest daughter (Emma Laird) to her first cousin, Archibald (Tom Felton), the presumed heir of the family fortune. However, when she jilts him at the altar, this unappealing family duty falls the eldest daughter, Rose (Thomasin McKenzie). What with being at the ripe old age of 23, she was not initially considered, as her mother describes her as a “worn out husk of a woman.”
As with most arranged marriages, Rose does not love her intended but rather has eyes for the new servant, Eric (Ben Radcliffe). Their difference in social station makes it impossible for them to wed. However, plans for the wedding are put on the back burner when Lord Davenport is found stabbed, shot, strangled and poisoned to death in his study. The clueless Inspector Watt (Tom Goodman-Hill) is called in to investigate.
The gags and double entendres come fast and furious, the writers believing at times in quantity over quality. Yet, it’s hard not be amused by the priest who ignores all punctuation in his sermons, resulting in one inappropriate phrase after another or jokes referring to London as being the birthplace of emphysema and child exploitation.
The film wonderfully skewers the pomposity of the upper class again and again, underscoring their useless nature and isolation from real world concerns. When it’s said that Lord Davenport never lifts a finger, this statement is enacted literally, Lewis proving to be an unexpectedly effective physical comedian.
The gags are quite silly at times, so broad in fact they wouldn’t be out of place in a Monty Python skit or a film such as Airplane. Subtlety doesn’t raise its austere head here, as jokes regarding flatulence abound, while a hunt goes horribly awry, with deer being shot out of the sky, only to land on an unsuspecting footman. It’s that kind of movie.
Before all is said and done, a hoary secret straight out of a Dickens novel is revealed, a deus ex machina device that sets all things right. Sporting, according to the writers, 280 jokes – which is nearly three per minute – you have to applaud the sheer effort that’s gone into the film as well as the work of the cast, all of them fully committed to the goofy nature of this enterprise. In the end, Hall, while not producing any big laughs, generates just enough guffaws, chuckles and knowing grins to pass muster. In Theaters.
You a new take on eternal romantic questions
It’s a hard and fast rule that the best romances are those that end tragically. Of course, it could be argued that that those that end with a couple heading off into a happily-ever-after existence are, in fact, tragedies in the making. If the divorce rate and the oft-heard complaints from longtime marrieds tell us anything, it’s that familiarity does, in fact, breed contempt and that initial bliss often morphs into silent suffering and resentment. But I digress …
William Bridges’ All of You takes a unique look at the romantic genre as it focuses on a couple in the near future who can, if they wish, take a test to find out who their soulmate is. To take the test or not, is one of the dilemmas that face them, as is questioning whether the results hold any water. Running a brisk 98 minutes, the film benefits greatly from the chemistry between the two leads as well as its uncompromising look at the emotional toll spawned by a love pursued that defies social conventions.
Soul Connex, a firm that specializes in rapid matchmaking, promises that by scanning your eyes, they will be able to introduce you to your one true love. Though there are plenty of naysayers, the thousands that have tried it and swear by its results lend it enough validity that Laura (Imogen Poots) decides to try it. Her best mate since their days in college, Simon (Brett Goldstein) scoffs at the process. While she’s looking for some assurances, he subscribes to the old-fashioned notion of giving himself over to the mystery of finding his match among the masses. A true romantic, he revels in the hunt, the sense of discovery.
It’s obvious to those that know them that Laura and Simon love one another. Whereas she denies such feelings exist, he readily admits to himself she’s the one for him. Years, pass and Laura lives a life of genuine happiness with Lukas (Steven Cree), who Soul Connex matched her with, and their daughter Sascha. Meanwhile, Simon cycles through one marriage and a series of relationships, his heart absent through them all, his longing for Laura, constant.
They ultimately act on the feelings that exist between them but not without surprising consequences. The film is linear but abrupt in its construction as it jumps forward in years without the traditional transitions. As one scene leads to the next, we’re required to pick up clues as to how much time has passed and where the couple is in their lives. New jobs are gotten, promotions are won and lost, and Laura and Simon have trysts whenever they can, some leading to happiness, others to despair.
Guilt and anger become the predominant emotions in the final act, as the catch-as-catch can nature of their decadeslong affair ultimately gets the better of them. How each justifies their actions and feelings are valid yet the story still contains its share of surprises.
No judgment is passed on either character and it’s a tribute to Bridges and Goldstein’s writing that we see each of their points of view as flawed yet understandable. And while the ending is uncompromising, there’s a sense of hope that somehow, a degree of love will always exist between them and each will find some solace. In the end, the writers reveal themselves to be earnest romantics, because if All of You is nothing else, it’s a testament of hope that true love is sustainable and that to rely on some test to help you find it is the act of a fool. Streaming on Apple TV+.
This article appears in December 4-10, 2025.
